Time once again for me to honor another incredible, deserving poet!  I love this feature of the site more than any others because I get to shine a spotlight on one of YOU!  The FEATURED POET this time is:

MrDaMan!!!


Randy is a very unique writer in that much of his work as an almost satirical edge to it, lightening some of the darkest subject matter and yet when he has to get down and dirty, he does.  The intelligence in this poet's words shines through and is unmistakeable.  I am constantly awaiting new works from him as he is truly at the top of his game.  This line: 

"Middle class poets, the teeth of humanity" is just one sterling example of his poetic prowess and gift for putting words together that really get your attention.  I implore ALL poets and members of this site to check further into his work...you will be glad you did.

BIO:

"MrDaMan" is a rather cocky Internet nick isn't it"

Yeah it was meant to be, I stole it from a friend who never hangs out online. He only used it on Xbox and PS games, and I took it for my online persona. "MrDaMan" originates from Sienfield's TV show when he and the cast were always going "Da" everything. DaMan, Dacoolest, Daparty.  I am the boss at work and my friend called be DaMan one day, I said; "MrDaMan to you!"

Before writing poetry I was "MrDaMan" and I'm a big fan of POKER. If you play at PokerStars or FullTilt and you run across "MrDaMan" yeah that's me. I WANT the fish to think I'm cocky so "MrDaMan" was perfect for my online poker personality. I think the only difference between me and the poker pros is bankroll.  They got it...I don't ? LOL but so does every fish.

I've written for over 40 years, mostly journals, not diary like, but bits and pieces of free association. yeah weird huh? Nothing ever made sense except for an occasional letter to the editor or an article published in a Paint Ball magazine. I once had a full length article in a local San Diego beach paper on the War in Iraq. (Don't get me started.) heheh

Poetry to me over the years was the stuff of sissies, of high falutin academics of roses and pretty, pretty baubles. Then somewhere online I read something that reminded me of my free association journals. I don't remember the exact piece, it was actually a culmination of many pieces I read and time before something snapped in my head...THAT'S FRIKKEN POETRY!

Enter Charles Bukowski, once I read some of Bukowski's stuff I realized that poetry don't have to be fluff, that it can bite and tear off pieces of life, chew them up like a cows cud and spit them out like truckers and cowboys chaw'n RedMan.

And then two years ago the economy crashed. I had a fairly comfortable life as a California contractor in new construction. With the downturn in the economy came living on the edge and lot's and lot's of free time. My free association writings began to take form and meaning. An now I'm a god damn poet!
Go figure!

I have a creative streak a mile wide and love music, video production and editing. Wish I knew this when I was rolling in money hahah but like anything else?. Love finds a way. I used to enjoy going to work everyday so I could play hard fishing, camping, traveling or whatever took my fancy. Now LOL I kinda resent it when I do get work? I?d rather sit at home writing and making music and videos. Ahh but I?ve gotten used to certain comforts like a daily shower and a bed ummmm good stuff.

So anyway there?s a little something about "MrDaMan" I?m really just a humble cat who?s fallin into a heady vat of poetic brew. I?d like to thank Mr. And Mrs. Wordmachinist for a wonderful online venue with a family of poets that spark the imagination. Not all online poet groups are as conducive to the light and dark depth that I?ve found here. It?s really a beautiful thing.

Everyone here ROCKS! Write on! Write on! Write on!

...Randy

POETRY:


Tell Me About These People

I "know" them not.... they are empathic images

that glitter in my mind on an electronic screen.

I assume they are flesh and blood and not figments

of my imagination scattered across the green and brown

of this blue world we call home.

Middle class poets, the teeth of humanity

that chew on reality and survive or die upon

the wisdom learned or lost in the prevailing

winds of cultures vultureistic ethos.

Christians and atheists, agnostics and the curious,

mischievous and outwardly introspective.

Darwins children swinging on the vines of cyber evolution,

a fraction of the monkey on Shakespeare's back scribing

sonnets and poetic prose that greases the pain

and makes pleasure more accessible.

Intelligent life with keyboard claws ripping the fabric

of information and disseminating human truths, lies and fantasies.

Eclectic electric Kirlian auras Star Treking the new frontier.

Inner space where light and dark thoughts intermingle

and are shadowed on millions of lucid screens.

Twenty first century candles of liquid crystal plasma

flickering WordMachinist* souls as living room campfire familial heat.

Birds of a feather learning to fly on wings of optic fiber and satellites,

soaring on empathy?s winds, swimming in oceans of consciousness

rubbing and touching spirits as bits and bytes.

I "know them not" but I believe they are...human.

DARK TREASURE


I have this box

of misbehaviors,

a collection

of dark treasures.

Shiny as ancient coins

burnished by the oils

of human sins.

I try to keep

this box locked,

as politeness requires

but,

secretly enjoy the

loose latch

forgiving the

occasional snick

of a switchblade

and a sip of Rum.

The pirates,

pillaging my soul

and making fun

of my innocence.

Filling my spirit

with gales of

shadowed winds,

heightening the

boundaries of light

with dangerous

dark curiosities.

These shadows

sparkle the imagination

with what ifs

and seductive

desires.

I keep this box

of misbehaviors

in a hope chest

of civilized manners.

Leashed securely

to the better side

of my nature.

I take it out

now and again

to dream of

Dark Treasures.